Demigod Treasure Hunter: The Hunt Begins
by Sage Nicholson
Summary: First in a series, the story of a daughter of Hermes and her friends, who embark on a quest to find a lost treasure by accident. If you like fluff and angst, then this is not the fan-fiction for you. If you like humor, action, and all around awesomeness, however, then what are you waiting for?
1. Preface

**Before I begin really telling my story, I am going to have a quick introductory chapter;**

 **Time: Summer, after BoO. Camp is going on as usual.**

 **Place: Camp, assorted parts of America**

 **Basic descriptions of main characters:**

 **Emma Lee (15): Our protagonist. Daughter of Hermes with no major demigod powers, but a few special skills (such as lock picking). Petite, only about 5'2', and wiry with red hair, fair skin, blue eyes, and freckles. A sarcastic complainer who's a lot smarter than she seems.**

 **Angeline Nakamura (16): Daughter of Athena. First generation American, father from Japan. Asian features, black hair, grey eyes. Almost photographic memory. A bit eccentric, very fortitudinous.**

 **Luca O'Neil (15): Son of Ares with natural fighting abilities. Brown hair, hazel eyes. Rude, loud and constantly angry.**

 **Skylar Waters (15): Daughter of Aphrodite. Highly attractive, with caramel brown hair and brown eyes. Has a heart of gold, but a head of lead.**

 **Elliot Simpson (14): Son of Apollo. . Curly blonde hair, blue eyes, has failed to reach puberty. Has inherited ability with projectiles.**

 **I know that stories with OCs probably don't get read as often as those starring canon characters, because often they are infested with Mary Sues, so if you happen to like this story, suggest it to others. I will be updating as fast as I can. This is my first story, so I apologize for any mistakes.**


	2. Ebay always lies

**Disclaimer: I do not own the PJO series. Please do not send lawyers after me.**

* * *

When my best friend Elliot suggested that we go on a road trip down the east coast, my immediate reaction was as follows:

"Are you _out_ of your _mind_?" Of course, Elliot is not exactly known for his brilliant ideas, but suggesting that five demigods wander across the country, attracting who knows how many monsters, that was a new low. Eventually, however, I agreed, because, as a daughter of Hermes, I've always had a yen to travel. Also Elliot promised to pay for everything. I figured, hey, what's the worst that could go wrong?

So now I'm walking with Luca to the parking lot, where a brand new (okay, _slightly_ used) Winnebago is waiting. I bought it on EBay a few days ago, and it just arrived. Two more of my friends, Skylar and Elliot, are walking toward us. Elliot is carrying both his normal sized bag of luggage and Skylar's gargantuan one. This is no surprise. Elliot's had a crush on Skylar since they met. Skylar wave hello to us and Elliot smiles weakly.

"Hi Emma, hi Lucas, this is going to be _so_ much fun! Where are we going first? How about LA? Or Hawaii?"

"I was thinking more of Washington DC."

"Okay, either way, this is going to be _so_ much fun!" While we are having this conversation, Elliot is being slowly crushed under the weight of Skylar's bag Luca helps him up and then turns to me, glowering.

"What's taking Angeline so long? She's normally the first one here!" he complains impatiently. I shrug. We stand on the green waiting a few more minutes, and then Angeline comes running up from the Athena cabin. A hoodie covers her hair.

"Sorry I'm late." she pants. Her hoodie falls down, exposing her hair, I let out a shriek.

* * *

Angeline's normally jet black hair has been dyed platinum blonde. Instead of being in a pony tail, like usual, it hangs down her shoulders in ringlets. She looks ridiculous, like some sort of really lame cosplayer. Luca voices all our opinions.

"What is wrong with your _hair_!" Angeline looks miffed.

"I dyed it blonde."

"I know but... why?"

"Why do you think? Because all my siblings are blonde!" She rolls her eyes.

"Not all your siblings are blonde." Elliot points out. She glares at him and he cowers behind Skylar's suitcase.

I wince. " _Please_ tell me that's not permanent."

"Oh yes it is! Come on, none of you like it? Not even you Skylar? Your always telling me I need to make bold fashion choices. Well, I did!" Skylar looks at the ground uncomfortably, as do the rest of us. Then finally, Elliot ends the uncomfortable silence.

"Are we going or not? Chiron says we need to be out by noon, or else the cleaning harpies will eat us." Chiron has granted us some time off from camp. He thinks we're going to relatives, not going sightseeing and slacking off from our training.

I run ahead, anxious to see my new RV for the first time. The guy I got it from on EBay said it had only been used once before, and I can't wait to ease myself into the driver's seat of this beautiful, magnificent... _h_ _unk of junk_?

The Winnebago is at least ten years old, and all of the metal has rusted. Someone has glued an ornament shaped like a big cat on the hood, and a cougar surrounded by a fence of barbed wire has been painted on the side. Clearly this belonged to some motorcycle gang, and when they realized what a piece of crap it was, they dumped it on some poor, unsuspecting buyer; manly me. I grab the keys from the hood and step inside. It reeks likes cigarettes, beer, and onions. In the back, there is a pile of dirty laundry with penicillin mold growing on it. There are broken longneck _everywhere_ , and when I open the freezer I am attacked by a squadron of leftover Chinese food, which the gang was wisely saving up for an emergency. The beds are covered with bags of trash, and probably have fleas.

Behind me, Skylar makes a noise like she's going to hurl. Angeline's mouth opens and closes, but no words come out.

"It's... it's a dive bar on wheels. I manage to stammer. Elliot nods in agreement, and Luca groans. I take a deep, breath -big mistake, it smells like a garbage dump in here- and focus myself.

"Okay guys, we've got about two hours to make this thing less of a bio-hazard, so let's go!"

* * *

We start by hosing down the side of the RV, then we seal all the cracks with duct tape. After that we take out all the trash bags. Nobody will touch the dirty laundry, so I use our suitcases to segregate it from the rest of the room. We sweep away the broken glass, and I spray the entire interior with massive amounts of bug spray, the objective being that it will get rid of the fleas and make the air smell better. By the time we're finished, it's noon, and we pull out of camp, thus starting the poorest planned vacation ever.

* * *

 **So there you have it! Those of you who study Murphy's Law know that the stinking Winnebago is not nearly the worst thing that's going to happen. I value your opinion and ideas, so please, feel free to critique.**


	3. Abe Lincoln burps up money

**VCRx- Thank you so much for the review! I really appreciate it. I know that the first chapter was uneventful, but that is because I need to get the ball rolling. Trust me, there will be action in this chapter.**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own PJO, just in case you though I was Rick Riordan writing under a pseudonym.**

* * *

Six and a half hours later, the bug spray has become unbearable. Upon reflection, I realize it is, in fact, not a good idea to spray toxic chemicals in an enclosed space. But as horrible as the bug spray is, listening to Skylar is worse. Since we left Long Island she's been chattering on and on and on about her rhythmic gymnastics team, her hair, the mean girl who stole her style, her global hedge fund. Elliot, of course, is listening raptly, but Angeline and Luca stopped caring after New Jersey and are now having a serious and heated discussion on the possibility of Harambe the Gorilla secretly heading the Illuminati. I meanwhile, am attempting not to leap out of the car and strangle the idiot who is ahead of me! What does he think he's doing, cutting ahead like that? HE JUST GAVE ME THE FINGER WHEN I HONKED AT HIM! WELL SAME TO YOU, PAL!

(deep breath) I'm sorry. I will go back to the story now. I'm crawling along, ready to behead myself with my own drivers license, when Luca spots the exit sign for Washington DC. We all cheer as I get on the exit ramp and pull into the nation's capitol.

Washington DC: as an American, you owe it to yourself to visit the city, because this is your city, where your government spends quadrillions of dollars on programs such as National Intestinal Blockage Month, which are administered by your government workers in buildings that you can't go in because you don't have a pass. Also, they have museums. We skip past the museums and head straight for the heart of the city; the Washington Mall.

"Remember guys, we need to keep an eye out for monsters," Elliot reminds us as we pay for our tickets. I nod, not really listening to a word he's saying. We enter the park, and I don't see any monsters. Just fat tourists in hideous Hawaiian t-shirts, bored kids on school field trips, and the occasional spy from Where-the-heck-istan. We cruise our way to the Lincoln Memorial, and by, using our backpacks as battering rams, we are able to make it to the front of the statue.

"Fact: the Lincoln Memorial began construction in 1914, and was finished in 1922. Fact: the stones used to build the Lincoln Memorial are from Massachusetts, Colorado, Indiana, Georgia and Tennessee. Fact: the Lincoln Memor-"

"Fact: no one cares about the Lincoln Memorial." Angeline glares at Luca, then looks at the statue. Her eyes widen with surprise. I glance up from the plaque I was attempting to read (dyslexia, remember?) and let out a gasp.

Elliot has climbed up onto Abraham Lincolns Lap and is fiddling with one of the buttons on his coat.

"Elliot, get down from there!" I whisper frantically. "If you get caught, we'll go to federal prison, and then we'll be used as chew toys for large federal dogs!" He doesn't listen. He's staring at the statue like he's in some sort of trance. I groan (quietly) and glance behind me, expecting to see FBI agents barreling toward us, but everybody is looking in another other direction. It's like they don't even see us there.

"What is this doing here?" he mutters. Unable to restrain my curiosity any longer, I climb up next to him. Engraved on the button he's tracing with his finger is what looks like a coat of arms.

"Hey Angeline, check this out!" I call. She climbs up, and by now Abe's lap is getting pretty crowded. As she stares at the button her eyes widen further. I place my hand on it, and I can feel what the button is for, what's behind it, how you can open it.

"It's a lock" I mummer. A lot of children of Hermes can sense locks, just like children of Hephaestus can sense mechanics. The lock doesn't have a key-hole or levers, but it does have three pins. It must be movement based. I jiggle the lock. Nothing. I turn it clockwise, like a knob. Nothing. I turn it counter clockwise, and hear a small click. That means that a pin has lined up with the shear line. I pull the knob toward me. Another click. I push the knob back into position, and after a few seconds Abe's mouth opens and a coin drops out. I grab the coin and inspect it. It looks like a Roman denarii, but instead of some dead emperor on it there's the same coat of arms that's on the button. It's golden, possibly imperial golden. I turn to the others when Skylar tugs frantically at my foot.

"We've been spotted!"

* * *

She's right, we have been spotted. A security guard is barreling toward us. When I look into his beady eyes, they almost seem reptilian. Luca then confirms my fear.

"It's a monster, run!" I hope off the statue as fast as I can, but the monster spots the coin in my hand. He licks his lips in anticipation, and I see he's got a snake's tongue.

I inwardly groan. Naturally I'm the one he chases. I race into the crowd, nearly knocking over some fourth graders. Reptile-man follows me. I race toward the parking lot as fast as I can go, but he's still gaining ground. I leap into the RV, just seconds before he grabs me. Everyone else was already in there, so I step on the gas pedal harder than I've ever before. My last glimpse of Reptile-man is in the review mirror, shouting something into a walky-talky.

* * *

 **Don't worry, all will be explained in the next chapter. Hope you enjoyed!**


	4. The Da Vinci Code was right!

**Disclaimer: I do not own the PJO series. Because Rick Riordan is going to personally file a lawsuit against me if (heaven forbid) I don't write this disclaimer.**

* * *

While my heartbeat is going back to normal, Luca whirls around to glare at Elliot.

"What the heck was that all about? You almost got me killed over a souvenir coin! An ugly souvenir coin!"

Eliot grins sheepishly. "Sorry... I just kinda noticed the button and wanted to see what is was..."

"Jesus Eliot," I complain. "I know that we're ADHD, impulsive and all that, but this level stupidity takes the cake!"

"You climbed up too!" He points out. I stammer in response.

"Well, since we risked our lives for the stupid thing, we might as well figure out what it is." Angeline butts in. "Emma, hand me that coin." When I wait more then a sixteenth of a second to hand it over to her she snatches it from my hand. Then she takes a picture of it with her IPhone- yes, I know that we're not supposed to have them, but there's a black-market for them at my cabin. We even have an underground website where we can share info called Demipedia. It's a lot easier than going on lengthy quests and fighting a bunch of monsters just learn the location of one object.

But back to the story. Angeline takes a picture with her IPhone, uses some sort of app and finds a match

"It says that's the coat of arms for the Knight's Templar.

"Ooh, I've heard about them! Weren't they all killed on Friday the 13 or something?"

"Luca, there's no exact proof that the date was Friday the 13, but yes, they we're all tortured and killed by the Catholic Church. I'm going to check them out on Demipedia."

"Whoa. According to this, the history of the Knights Templar goes way past the middle ages. Back when it was an empire, Rome had a huge rainy day fund that it collected over the years from its conquests. It had treasure from around the world, many rare and magical items. After the death of Tiberius, the new Roman emperor was absolutely insane, he began using the rainy day fund for his own personal extravagances. He wasted almost 7/8 of it before a small, brave group of demigods and legacies decided to steal the treasure to prevent it from disappearing altogether. They succeeded, but had to flee Rome. Most historians say they hid it somewhere in the Labyrinth, and they used a secret passage way to get in. Whatever treasure they found, they added to the collection. These keepers called themselves the Knights of the Temple, or Templars for short. The Templars remained around even after Rome fell, and guarded the Labyrinth entryways. By then the Romans we're even more desperate to find the treasure and regain their former glory-" I cut her off.

"Why didn't these people just give it to them? I mean, Rome wasn't headed by crazy guys anymore, and they needed their rainy day fund more than ever?" She looks at me like I'm an idiot, which I (and everyone else) am used to.

"Did you even show up for the classes of New Rome, Emma?" No, as a matter of fact, I did not. "Rome's power may have been destroyed, but their policies did not, they continued to rule by hereditary emperors, many of which were not fit to govern a toothpick, until the official move to America during the Colonial Period. Besides, by then the Templars were mostly Greek demigods; they wouldn't have helped the Romans even if they weren't power hungry megalomaniacs. But as I was saying, the Templars created a false military order; the Knights Templar. They fought in the Crusades, but their motives went beyond the Holy War. A second, unprotected entrance to the Templar Treasure -I'm gonna call it that- had opened up in Jerusalem. The Templars managed to close it, but in doing so they blew their cover. In 1312 the Romans used their connections and power to have the group destroyed, but a few of the Templars made it to North America*, and operated deep undercover for centuries after. The last known head of the Templars was Abraham Lincoln himself, and when he was shot, the group was left leaderless. It fell into chaos, and everyone assumes they just disbanded. But the Lincoln Memorial, as I have mention before, was built in the 1910s and 20s, so parts of the group must have continued! This is so exciting, a lost order!" Luca grins.

"Screw the lost order, what about the lost treasure! If I were that rich, I wouldn't own a car for every day of the week, I'd own a car for everyday of the year!" I nod.

"Even more important than that, I would own a car for every day of the year, and a small country in the Pacific Ocean. I would name it Emmalandia!" I say in agreement.

Skylar frowns. "If only we had the treasure." I grin evilly.

"What are we waiting for? Let's find it!" Angie shakes her head.

"Hold it Emma. Maybe we should tell camp about this. You saw that monster, it chased you for it. It was on a walky-talky, so it probably isn't alone. We should head back to camp and let the competent demigods take this one." Elliot nods.

"She's right, this is way dangerous for five amateurs. Besides, don't we need a prophecy for a quest like this?" Says Elliot. I shake my head.

"Not so, my fraidy-cat friend," I begin in a phony British accent, "we are not going on a quest, we are going on a treasure hunt, and where in the unwritten rules of demigod conduct does it say we need a prophecy for a treasure hunt? It doesn't. Elementary, my dear." Luca grins, and we exchange high fives.

"Look, how about we take a vote? Whoever wants to go on this suicide quest- sorry treasure hunt- stands next to Emma, whoever wants to make the smart choice stands by me." We end up with Luca and me on one side, Angie and Elliot on the other side and with Skylar in the middle. She looks back and forth nervously, and after what seems like forever but was probably just fifteen minutes walks over to our side. Luca cheers and I smirk -something I do a lot.

"Well Elliot, where to next?"

* * *

 *** Archaeologists discovered a 13th Century tunnel of European design somewhere on the New England coast. When they tried to excavate it, it flooded. Another tunnel, which lead to sea, kept it filled with water, and un-explorable. They think it might be made by the Knights Templar.**

 **Hope you enjoyed! I tried to be a least semi-historically accurate. I always research a subject before I write about it. However, the first time I wrote this, I knew virtually nothing of the Roman Empire, so my original attempts at the Templar's history were... laughable, to say the least.**


	5. Battle of the Humongous Flying Rodent

**Hey, sorry it's taken me so long to update. I've had a lot on my plate recently. Here's the latest chapter.**

* * *

It is there that we run into the first problem in my otherwise genius plan; we have no idea what our next move is. So far, the two biggest leads we've got are Knights Templar and Abraham Lincoln. Since we have neither the money nor resources to go to Europe and the Middle East, we decide to follow the Lincoln lead. It's 3:00 in the morning, but Angie has been up all night searching the web for clues. Subsequently, the rest of us have been up all night, because she insists that we stay alert at all times to check for monsters and become so sleep deprived that we hallucinate Roman Emperors jumping fences dressed as sheep. Just when I doze off, she jumps up and squeals at explosion level.

"I've got it! I've got it! It took 9 hours of research, but I'VE FOUND IT!" At this point the only thing I care about finding is a way to turn back time so I can regain the lost hours of sleep. But still, we all shuffle over to her.

"LOOK AT THIS! JUST LOOK!" Angie screams. At this point, any monster who wasn't alerted by the use of phones was definitely alerted by the screaming. Dogs as far away as Austin are barking. Skylar gives a look that could kill. The lack of sleep has affected her more than anyone else.

"What! Tell me fast, because I have bags under my eyes the size of actual garbage bags!" Luca nods in agreement (about telling us fast, not the bags under her eyes. Or maybe both.)Angie gestures to her phone. On it is a blurry picture of Lincoln giving the Gettysburg Address. I make a face.

"So? I've seen this one before. What's so special I had to stay up all night for it?" She grins.

"Check this out." With a tap of a button, the photo becomes clearer. With another tap it changes to full color. Elliot's eyes widen.

"How did you do that?"

"That's an Athena Cabin secret. But look at the paper he's holding. The one he wrote his speech on." She zooms in. On the page, faint but still visible, is the Templar coat of arms.

"Unfortunately that piece of paper has been missing since November 19, 1863." our faces fall. "But we can visit Gettysburg National Park and search it for clues." Our faces light up again.

"it's in Pennsylvania, and hour and 47 minutes away, so let's get moving! Emma, get in that driver's seat!"

First The Lincoln Memorial. Now Gettysburg National Park. When will we ditch all these dusty historical sites and visit a real attraction, like the World's Largest Ball of Twine? The Park's basically a giant field, with an educational center plopped in the middle and some barns and cannons scattered about. The first thing we check is the statue of Lincoln, but apparently these Templars were too smart to use the same trick twice. We walk all around the park, while Angeline once again shares her useless, annoying facts.

"The Battle of Gettysburg had the most casualties in the entire civil war, with between 46,000 and 51,000 deaths. The Battle of Gettysburg took 3 days, thats 64 straight hours of conflict." Boring... After a lifetime of baking in the hot sun, Luca calls out to us.

"Hey," he says "is it just me, or are those cannons celestial bronze?" He's right; they are. I walk up to a nearby ranger.

"What's the deal with those cannons? I mean, are they important.?" The ranger smiles.

"Those cannons are artifacts from the battle, they're placed in their original positions."

"So, you mean those cannons we're around in 1863?"

"Exactly. We have more information in the visitors center if you're interested." I grin. He's just told me everything I need.

"Guys, how do we get to those cannons without being spotted?" Elliot shrugs.

"I don't know, maybe we'll get lucky, like we did in Washington." Angeline shakes her head.

"No way Skylar, that wasn't luck. There has to be a reason why no one's noticed these cannons, or Lincoln's jacket before."

"Maybe it was the Mist." She (Angeline) smacks her head.

"Of course! No wonder we weren't spotted! The Mist conceals anything involving the treasure to mortal eyes! Skylar you're a genius!" She grins.

"I am? Really! Yay!"

"So, who's gonna go down there and get it?" We simultaneously turn to stare at Luca.

"What?"

We shove him toward the field. He struggles, but there's five of us and one of him.

"How come I have to go down There? Emma's the annoying one; she should go down there!"

"Maybe, but you've done nothing so far to help us, also I, personally, hate you more."

"Et tu, Angeline?" But eventually he goes, mumbling under his breath the whole way.

"I always have to do the heavy lifting. Skylar hasn't been any use, but does she have to wade through brush on a sunny day at noon to look at a piece of metal? Nooooo!" Because we're having a riot up here watching him.

So here we are, waiting for something to happen as Luca inspects the cannon, when a giant bat appears out of nowhere.

* * *

Yes, when I said "giant bat", I meant, giant bat. It appears to be a vampire bat, and trust me, you do not want to see one of those things magnified. It dives toward us, and I stand there, paralyzed with fear. Angeline pulls me out of the way seconds before I become a Emma-kabob. It hovers in the air, screeching, and again I note how dang ugly it is.

"Guys, follow my lead!" I make a mad dash toward Luca and the cannon, the others follow suit. The bat chases us, scaring the tourists like crazy. One guide is trying to calm them down.

"It's just a reenactment!" Yes, a reenactment of the Battle of the Humongous Flying Rodent.

"Ok, now what?" Luca looks at me funny.

"Did you ever have a plan in the first place?"

"Yes, it was called improvisation! We've got to find weapons!" Luca smirks.

"On it!" He reaches into his pocket and pulls out... a glue stick? Great. Now we can _glue_ the bat to death. Then he pulls the cap off, and the glue stick becomes a three foot sword.

"Where'd you even get that?" He rolls his eyes.

"Not all of us came completely ill-prepared. You guys should get out of the way; this is gonna get ugly." I don't need any further instructions, I dash safely out of range, tripping over a cannon ball in the process. Luca swings the sword at the monster, but it flies out of his reach. Then the bat dives down, claws out stretched; Luca deflects it, but barely. then the whole process repeats itself. I can tell by using my genius analysis skills that he (Luca) can't keep this up much longer. That, and the fact that he just said, "I can't keep this up much longer!" I look down at the cannon balls at my feet, and suddenly have a flash of inspiration I probably should've had a minute ago.

I pick up one and hold it, ready to throw, waiting for my chance. The bat dives with so much force it knocks Luca down, and his sword is thrown a few feet away. The bat screeches to express his triumph, then swoops down onto his helpless prey. Well, no time like the present. I heave the ball with as much force as I can muster, but it doesn't vaporize the monster like I hoped, or even injure it. What it does do is focus the monsters attention on me. It slowly turns toward me, hatred glittering in its malicious, intelligent eyes. I wince, preparing for extreme pain, not to mention death, when the bat disappears in a cloud of dust. When I threw the ball, it gave Luca just enough time to grab his sword, and strike.

Now the danger is over, the adrenaline rushes out of me, and I sink to the ground, shaking with terror and laughing uncontrollably. Next to me, Skylar is crying tears of relief, while Elliot is running around hugging us all and shouting "Alive! I'm still alive!" Angie has somehow retained her cool, although she does sigh with relief. Luca staggers up to us with a shocked expression.

"I... I can't believe it! I did it! I actually killed that thing!"

We walk back to van, joking the whole way there. Elliot grins.

"Ya, know, I wasn't nervous the whole time." he boasts. I look at him.

"The wet spot between your legs suggests otherwise." He blushes furiously as the rest of us laugh. Angie shrugs.

"In case you're wondering bats are still my favorite animals. What was that thing any way?" I shrug.

"Never heard of it." granted, I don't really pay attention in monster identification 101, but I think a giant bat would interest me. Still chuckling, we open the door to the Winnebago.

When we get inside, the place is completely trashed.

* * *

 **I know, I _love_ cliffhangers. Please review, your comments mean a lot to me. I'm willing to take constructive criticism.**


	6. Basically filler and possum-burgers

**I'm back! I know, I take a lot of time** to **update, but I have an active life. Hope y'all enjoy this next chapter!**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own PJO.**

* * *

I get inside, and the RV is completely trashed.

Our backpacks are on the floor, all there contents spilled out. Our food (mainly ramen noodles) is also dumped on the ground. Our sleeping bags have been torn open, apparently with some sort of blade. Even the pile of dirty laundry has been disturbed.

"Monsters." I mutter. "Who else would touch that bacteria breeding ground?"

Skylar asks "What were they doing here?" Angeline answers.

"They were looking for that" She points to my pocket. I take out the coin, and look at it as the gravity of this situation sinks in. Someone broke into our home. They destroyed our stuff. They stole any money we weren't carrying on us. They even smashed Angeline's tablet. They probably sent that bat thing after us when they realized what they were looking for wasn't here. We have no resources, and no clue what to do next.

"I guess we just go back to camp. Forget this ever happened." Elliot says as he slumps down on an empty mattress.

Skylar shakes her head. "And give up? No way! These jerks destroy our stuff, send a bat creature to kill us, and you just want to go home and forget about it? No! We're going to fight them!"

"She's right." says Luca, suddenly imbued with a new sense of determination. "So they trashed the Winnebago? Are we really going to quit just because of that?"

"Don't forget Luca, they also almost killed us in the park. We could quit because of that." Ah, Angeline. Always the voice of logic.

"Yea true, Angeline, but what kind of lame demigods would we be if that's the reason we quit? Percy Jackson and Annabeth Chase fell in to Tartarus and we're complaining about one tiny little monster attack? Come on! We're better than this. At least, I'm better than this." Skylar coughs into her hand. "And Skylar. Skylar is also better than this." Luca puts his hand in the middle of all of us. First Skylar, then me, Elliot, and Angeline all join in.

"Now let's do this! But first, let's get some grub! I'm starving."

* * *

Three monster-free hours later: We've found a pretty cheap diner that specializes in serving road-kill. The possum-burgers leave us with $18.85 left. We figure we'll solve our money problems later. We drive around nowhere for the rest of the day, listening to the radio.

At about 11:15 I decide that I can't take two nights without sleep and find a trailer park for the night. I drift off to sleep.

* * *

 **Not the most eventful paragraph, but important for moving the plot along. Again, I apologize for taking so much time between updates, but like I said, I've got a lot on my plate.**


	7. Elliot's dreams lead to murder-houses

**Happy New Y** **ear! 2017 is officially upon us. Unfortunately, so is the end of winter vacation.**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own PJO. Not that it wasn't obvious.**

* * *

I wake up to screaming. Elliot's screaming, to be specific. I rush toward him, ready to pummel him for waking me up. The rest of my friends soon follow.

"What? What is it?"

"I... dream... coin..." He's mumbling incoherently, but eventually he calms down enough for us to piece together what he said. Apparently, he prayed to his father for help, and had sort of prophetic vision that apparently children of Apollo can get if they tap into their powers. I think.

"It started on a cobblestone street, lined with colonial style houses. It was nighttime. I think it was spring, because the trees were budding. I was facing a building. It was pentagon shaped, redbrick, a wall around it. There was one small window, through which men were taking out barrels of something, I think it was gunpowder. Some were dressed like redcoats. Now that I think about it, they probably were redcoats. The redcoats piled all the barrels onto a cart. They were working pretty fast. Then they got out a smaller cart. The barrel they placed on it had the Templar's mark. They handled it like it was a live bomb. I began to here noises coming from the left side of the street, and see lights. When the lights got closer, I realized they were the torches of an angry mob. The redcoats took off, the little cart first, down a smaller road. The crowd roared right by me, after the big cart. I heard one person in the crown scream something like 'To the governor's palace! He'll pay for stealing our ammunition!'. One guy was running right toward me, his torch thrust out, about to hit me. Then I woke up."

"Elliot, I think you just witnessed the 1774 raid on the Williamsburg Magazine by British marines. So they were also smuggling something involving the treasure too. That is so cool! Our experiment worked like a charm!" Angeline is bouncing up and down with excitement at seeing one of her favorite historical places. Geek.

Wait. "Experiment?" I ask.

Elliot looks down. "Sometimes children of Apollo have bouts of... what's that word? Like, having visions and stuff? Cla-"

"Clairvoyance." Angeline interrupts. "We worked it out last night while the rest of you slept." It's only now I notice how exhausted Elliot looks. Even his curls are drooping. I wander how long Angeline kept him up with her plans?

"Well, whatever you did," Skylar adds. "It worked like a charm!" Eliot blushes happily at her little compliment.

Luca butts in, still sore about the grunt work he had to do yesterday. "So, whatever. Eliot had a demigod dream and now you're shaking to go to another dusty old historical sight. Yea, that's great and all, but now we have to schlep all the way over to Virginia or wherever this stupid place is, then poke around praying to God we aren't attacked by some giant gorilla or something. How the hell are we supposed to even snoop around? Ask?"

I laugh evilly. "What makes you think we're going to ask?"

* * *

We agree that the recon mission will involve two people, me (because of my mad sneaking skills) and Elliot (because he had the dream). Luca's too annoying, Skylar's too talkative and Angeline- well, at the moment, her hair practically glows in the dark. Plus, she says that she needs to stay at home base to coordinate our movements or something. We'll buy some tickets and pretend to be regular tourists, but we'll hide in the bathrooms until closing time. By then, Angeline will have hacked the computer system, specifically the security system, and made sure no heat sensors or cameras are tracking us. Then we'll head to the Magazine.

Part one goes off without a hitch. The problem starts when we realize that the smaller road Elliot saw the cart go down leads to a bigger road, with lots and lots of houses.

"Well, now what?" Elliot whispers.

"I don't know! I was kinda hoping that there would be some clearly marked path or something." Naturally, I'd forgotten step two. I breath deep, take my map out of the backpack I'm wearing, and try to think about this logically.

"Well, we can probably eliminate all the houses you can go into, the shops and the show houses. And since the crowd was following both carts, we can assume that the Redcoats weren't able to ditch it on the big roads, so they probably went down one of the four roads. Since three is a magic number, and I'm a righty, I pick the third to my right."

"Makes sense." I detect a hint of sarcasm in this statement.

We walk down our chosen road in the pale moonlight. It's dark, and quite. We tiptoe towards the first house.

"I'll take the lawn. Might be something buried in it. Emma, can you take the inside of the house?" Sure. I'm the one who has to go inside the creepy old place. It's probably filled with ghosts, and deadites. I tentatively open the door and peer inside. I can't see anything, but the dust tickles my throat and makes me cough. I grab my flashlight and turn it on. I'm standing in the old house. The air smells like mildew and rotting wood, making me gag. The home has been stripped bare of all it's furniture. It has no plumbing. There is a room to my left and a room to my right, and no second floor in sight. I enter the left. Every time I take a step, the wood creaks and sags under my feet. The room has a small window on each outer wall and a fireplace on the far side from me. Through one of the windows I can see Elliot inspecting a decrepit old well. When I walk, the floor continues to creak. He notices me and waves. I glare at him. Why couldn't he dream about a clue being at Disney World or something? I walk toward the fireplace. At first glance everything seem ordinary, but I notice something strange about the bottom, I lean in for a closer look, and the ground opens up underneath my feet.

* * *

I groan as my consciousness returns. The last thing I remember is, falling, screaming. My head feels like a hammer is pounding in it. I'm lying on the ground. As my senses expand, I notice someone next to me. Elliot.

"What..."

"The floor gave out under you, revealing this secret room. I jumped in after you." I look up, and sure enough, the floor of the old house is about six feet above me head. I sit up. Elliot is holding his flashlight, giving the room an eerie glow. Mine is broken next to me.

"Please tell me you have a rope or something." He shakes his head.

"Perfect. Now we're both trapped down here." Wherever 'here' is. I asses my injuries. A what appears to be small sprain in my left leg, not to mention a possible concussion, but I was lucky enough to land in a position where there wasn't any major damage. At least, nothing ambrosia from my backpack can't fix relatively quick. I grab my pack and find it. The ambrosia tastes like my mom's blondies, and I can feel it's healing juices coursing through me.

"We're in some sort of cavern."

"Not a cavern. A tunnel." He points his flashlight down the corridor. It stretches farther than the light reaches. I turn to Elliot and shrug.

"Well, no way to go but that away. You up for playing explorer?"

* * *

 **In case you don't realize it, Emma's fatal flaw is laziness. She'd rather go on dumb luck than think (picking a road to search via "eeny meeny miny moe") and take the easier, faster solution as opposed to the better one (dousing the Crapmobile with bug spray rather than just touching the laundry pile). So far, she's been lucky, and I've spared her big consequences, but I have a feeling that's going to change rather soon. And now for some final words.**

 **(Holds up pocket watch and waves it around)**

 **You are getting sleepy... very, very sleepy... you will review my fanfiction... it will be a good review, with a little constructive criticism... then you will make yourself a tinfoil hat and repeat the statement "the end is near!" to anyone you see... (sorry, I couldn't resist)**

 **-Sage**


	8. The catacombs of relationship discussion

**Hey hey hey people! Sorry it took me so long, but the next chapter is finally here!**

* * *

I limp down the corridor, cursing with every step. The ambrosia in my backpack only did so much; it still feels like someone Irish danced on my chest. The corridor is narrow, the walls are packed earth, and the ceiling is supported by a wood beam here and there. I try not to think about how old and rotted they are. Under where the fireplace was we found the remains of a ladder, but it was too crumbly to use. It turned out that there are dozens upon dozens of tunnels, going this way and that, and running all under Williamsburg, and we've become hopelessly lost in them. Elliot turns to me.

"Well, now what?"

"I don't know, I guess we follow that large tunnel over there. It looks the most stable, and is most likely not to be another dead end."

"What, no eeny meeny miney moe? But it worked so well the last time."

"Shut up and hand me the flashlight."

We walk down the corridor.

"So... you're a girl, right?"

"Excuse me?"

"What I mean is... you know about girl stuff, right? Like, what they think, and how they feel about certain people..."

"Um, I guess. Why?"

"Well, say I have a crush on Sk- this girl. And we're together a lot. And she's really pretty, and sweet, and funny, and-"

"Gee Elliot, I didn't know you cared."

"Oh ha ha ha. The point is, how do I know if she likes me back?"

"Elliot, I don't know whether or not Skylar likes you-"

"Skylar, who said it was Skylar! I never said-"

"Do the math. There are only three girls that you're with on a daily basis, and that's me, Skylar and Angeline, and we both know it's not Angeline. Look, I don't know whether or not she likes you, and there's only one way to find out."

"Inject her with truth serum?"

" _Ask_ her!"

"I can't!"

"Why?"

"Because!"

"Uh-huh." I give him a knowing look.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means you're a chicken."

"Am not!"

"Are too!"

"Am not!"

"Bawk-bawk bawk!"

"I'm not a chicken! Stop smirking! I just..." Elliot trails off when he realizes that this whole time we've been walking down the corridor, and although I can't see very far, It's lead us into some kind of man-made cavern. Something in the corner of my catches my attention. I point the flashlight at it.

"Hey Elliot, over here!" I walk toward it. "Is that the kind of barrel that was in your dream?" I squints at it.

"I think so. That's a gun powder barrel, right?"

"Yea, the British stole them from the local Magazine. I guess that this was their storage facility. These tunnels may have been made as a refuge in case the town above was overrun, probably by natives. They British might have used it for espionage. But why are these barrels still here?" I pull off the rotted lid. There's a blackish-grey, gritty powder inside. "And full?"

Elliot swings his flashlight around, looking for other clues. "I don't know. Maybe the colonists surprised them before they could use it? Maybe this was their reserve supply?"

"Maybe... well, if this place was never found, there's still a chance that the chest with the Templar seal might still be here to. Let's search this place from top to bottom."

* * *

A good time later we have found a lot of old used gunpowder, as well as some cool old bayonets, rifles, and one cannon (bringing back a less then found memory of Gettysburg) but no chest.

"Keep searching! It's got to be here!"

"I've looked everywhere! There's nothing! Unless they buried it it's not here!" Buried it... something snaps in my brain.

"Elliot, about how big was the box in your dream?"

"About toaster sized, no, a little larger."

"So, your saying it's small enough to fit inside say, a barrel full of gunpowder?..."

"So, you're saying that the box might be in one of these barrels?"

"Exactly!"

We open every barrel and spill it's contents all over the floor. In no time we are literally wading in gunpowder.

"This is hopeless!"

"Elliot please! Just a couple more!" I pull the top off of the barrel next to me and begin pawing through. Halfway through I brush against something solid."

"Elliot, there's something in here!" He helps me dig, and we pull the object out. I can't believe my luck, because I'm holding a small wooden barrel, a little smaller than a microwave.

And on it is the Templar seal.

* * *

 **Do you want to know what's inside that box? Do you want find where that treasure is? Do you want to see whether Elliot ever gets the nerve to tell Skylar he likes her? If you do, then too bad, because I'm not posting another chapter until I get another review. Yes, I know it's desperate, but I don't care. Just one review people, that's all I need. Well, until next time!**

 **-Sage**


	9. Running from something!

**(Sheepishly) Hi, it's me again. Yes, I know, I said I wasn't going to write again until someone reviewed. But the truth is, I lied. Besides, I figured I had better start updating a little more regularly, or at least get a bunch of chapters out there before my next 5 month hiatus. Hope you like this one!**

* * *

Elliot and I stare at the box, which we've placed on one of the barrels.

"So this is it?" I say.

"Yea." We stare at it a little longer. Don't ask me why, but it creeps me out. Like, whatever's inside their doesn't belong anywhere near here. Or maybe I don't belong anywhere near it. The point is, the longer we sit in silence, the more I feel like I'm standing on live explosives. Then I look down at the gunpowder spread all over my feet and realize that I _am_ standing on live explosives.

"Um, Emma?"

"Yea?"

"Are you gonna open this thing or what?"

"How come I have to open it? How come you can't?"

"Fine, I'll open it then." Elliot pulls the lid off the chest in what seems like slow motion. I inwardly brace myself. I tentatively peer inside the box, and staring me straight in the face is... a bunch of pieces of paper. Well, really old pieces of paper, but still, it seems a little disappointing.

"That's it?"

"Yea, I guess so."

"I sprained my ankle for _this_?"

"Well, what were you expecting?"

"I don't know, maybe like, an engraved stone that, when held at the right angle, reveals a riddle that reveals the location of the treasure, and maybe also acts as a key?"

"You watch _way_ too many adventure movies."

"Yea, I know."

"So, I guess we read them now?" It is just then that I remember that we are in a claustrophobic collection of tunnels, and that we need to get out of here before I cause a cave-in or worse, starve to death.

"Find an exit first, read old papers later." As I say this, we hear what sounds like a roar in the distance. We look at each with expressions of terror.

"Definitely exit first."

We search every crack, every crevice for a ladder, a secret door, a magic portal to Wonderland, _anything_ that might help us escape. Meanwhile, footsteps echo through the hallway, getting louder and louder.

"Whatever made that noise is headed straight for us? How does it know right where we are?"

"It's a monster Elliot. It can smell us. _Duh_." The whatever-it-is roars again. It's sounds like the sound the T-rex makes is "Jurassic Park" this is not a happy thought.

"There's now way out of here but the entrance we came, Emma!"

"Then let's get out of here before that thing finds us!"

"We might run into it!"

"If we stay here, we'll definitely run into it!" Elliot pauses to think.

"Good point. Now let's run for it!" I grab the papers and stuff them in my backpack. Then I out of the room like a bat out of hell.

"I say we go left." We hear more roaring from the corridor to our left.

"Right it is." I've never been more terrified in my life than I am now, not even when the SUV sized bat-attacked. We run this way and that through the tunnels, until I notice a faint glimmer of light. I stop dead, and Elliot run into me.

"Oww! Emma, what the heck?"

"Isn't that sunlight over there?" He takes a look.

"Definitely." We walk down the side tunnel. The ceiling is very low, about 4 feet, and we have to duck. The light is shining in between some boards that make up the ceiling.

"Elliot, if we can move those boards, we can climb out of here!" We try to lift the wood up. I here a faint roaring in the distance.

"Hurry!" We begin pounding on the boards as hard as we can. Dirt falls through into the tunnel.

"It's working!" We remove enough of the wood to climb through.

"Lady's first! Give me a boost."

"How I come _I_ have to give you a boost? Why can't you give _me_ a boost?"

"Because, I'm lighter, and if you hadn't jumped down here without a way back out, we never would have been in this mess in the first place." He groans.

"Make it quick. That backpack adds like 50 pounds."

"Actually, it's only about 25." I Scramble up as fast as I can, then I hold out my hand.

"Elliot, jump. I'll pull you up. He does so. We find ourselves in an old storage shed, which, thankfully, is not locked. We run outside. It's just after sunrise.

"I recognize this place. We're on one of the plantations. If we follow the trail down there, we should make it back to-" He never finishes, because just then the whole place explodes.

* * *

 **Do I love my cliffhangers or do I love my cliffhangers? Tell me what you think! Post a review!**

 **-Sage**


	10. National parks explode

**Hello people. I'm back! As usual, I ended on a cliff-hanger. Tell me if you like it or not! Also, thanks cuz, for the heartwarming review!**

* * *

"We're in one of the plantations. If we follow the trail, we should make it back to-" There's a blinding flash of light, like someone turning on a lamp when you've just woken up. For a couple of seconds, the ground shakes like a 4.0 earthquake. When I recover, I can make out a huge smoke cloud nearby. I turn to Elliot grimly.

"Wanna bet that what ever was following us found the gunpowder?" He gulps nervously.

"Yea, that'd be a safe bet."

"Come on, let's blow this popsicle stand before the police show up."

"Emma, please, let's not use the phrase 'blow'." We run all the way back to the Winnebago.

"What did you two morons do!" Gee, thanks Luca. No "Are you guys okay?", no "Did you get what you needed?". He immediately jumps to "What did you morons do!". I give him my most evil glare.

" _We_ didn't do anything! It was the guys who were following us! I think they blew up the tunnels we were in."

"Whoa, slow down." Angeline says. "What tunnel? Who was following you?" I hear police sirens in the background.

"Let's discuss this while we're driving."

* * *

"So, let me get this straight," Angeline begins with a sigh. "You fell into a network of underground tunnels, found a room full of dynamite and this chest with the old papers in it, and then got chased out by some unidentified monster, who later blew up the whole room with dynamite."

"Yea pretty much." Skylar walks in with her phone in hand.

"Wow, we totally made national news! Everybody's talking about this, all over the internet. Luckily, nothing too important go destroyed, just a whole bunch of woods and an abandoned section of town, but still! People are saying its a terrorist attack."

"Is there anything about us?"

"Nope, not so far." I breath a sigh of utter relief.

"But there is some talk about security footage catching two kids running away from the scene." I groan. So much for utter relief. Luca and Angeline shift through the papers as Skylar describes some of the posts.

"Weekly World News says that this is the first part of the Lizard King's plan to take over the world. They advise wearing pointy tinfoil hats until the crisis is over."

"Ugh, what a mess. And for what, a bunch of stupid papers. I can't even read these, they're written in scribbles!" Angeline snorts.

"That's old cursive Luca, you idiot. Of course I'm surprised you can read regular writing." Angeline begins to read them out loud to us.

 _Mr. Arnold,_

 _The Empire greatly appreciates your help in recovering what is lost. As promised, should your guess be correct you shall receive a large sum of money. I look forward to meeting you again._

 _sincerely,_

 _Paulo Tabernus_

I snicker "What kind of name is Paulo? Is that French or something? Because it's stupid." Angeline glares at me for interrupting her. I stop snickering.

 _Mr. Arnold,_

 _It seems you are not as trusted by General Washington as you think. The information you gave me was not only faulty, but a trap. I would strangle you and feed you to my pets if you were not my only link to these "Templars", as they are calling themselves. You must continue your charade as brilliant commander and loyal rebel. Do well, and not only will I spare your life, but you will receive great compensation. Fail again, and lose everything._

 _may the gods have pity on you,_

 _Paulo Tabernus_

"I wonder what kind of pets they are? Like, are they Burmese pythons, or lions, or 6 month old cartons of Chinese food that have been reanimated via massive amounts of bacteria?" This time, everyone glares at me.

 _My Good Friend Benedict,_

 _Congratulations. The raid on the Templar encampment in Massachusetts went off without a hitch. I have collected a very_ _useful piece of information. I am having my men keep it safe in Williamsburg._

 _Bravo,_

 _Paulo Tabernus_

"Is that the Benedict Arnold I think it is? Like, the most famous traitor in American history Benedict Arnold?" Skylar says.

"One thing's for sure" I reply "it sure ain't the guy who invented eggs Benedict." Elliot, who has been staring at the letters in disbelief looks up.

"How'd these even get here? Like, wouldn't they have been with Benedict Arnold? Or burned?" Angeline shrugs.

"I have no idea. There's one more letter, do you want me to read it or not?" She doesn't wait for a reply, but opens it. A necklace with a pendent falls out.

 _Benedict,_

 _The Templars have traced their stolen item to me. I am staging a distraction to safely transport it somewhere else. As for you, you must deny any contact with me, on the pain of death. So I know they will be destroyed, you must give any letter I sent back to me at our next (and last) rendezvous._

 _May the gods have mercy on you Arnold,_

 _Paulo Tabernus_

I pick up the necklace. There's a circular pendent on it, covered in rust. Underneath the rust I can see the glimmer of imperial gold. I roll my eyes.  
"And once again what seems so promising leads us to an old, useless piece of metal." Luca glares at me.

"Seriously Emma. That's what your thinking about? We just found letters telling us that George Washington was a Templar, Benedict even bigger a traitor than we thought, and a guy named Paulo was the puppet master behind is betrayal, and you're complaining about a stupid piece of metal? Gods, you're an idiot."

"At least I'm not an asshole!" I shoot back. We give each other our best showdown glare. Skylar, sensing violence about to erupt, puts a calming hand on both of our shoulders.

"Just chill you guys. Don't you think you're overreacting a little."

"I'm not the one who freaked out over a stupid comment," I growl.

"I'm not the one who spends every second of the day I'm not smart-mouthing complaining!"

"I'm not the one with the IQ of a dumpster who thinks he's Albert Einstein!"

"You think you're so smart? You dropped out of school!" I can feel my face flush. Tears begin welling in my eyes.

"Just shut up Luca!"

"Ooh, did I strike a nerve?"

"You... I... aaaugh!" I pull over to the side of the road and storm outside, unable to hold back the tears any longer.

* * *

 **Oooh, drama. This has been a particularly eventful chapter. Bonus round: if you can guess who Paulo Tuberous really is, I will include the joke of your choice in my next chapter. Just tell me who think he is, along with your joke, in a review. That's all for now, folks!**

 **-Sage**


	11. Pity parties for all!

**Hello peoples! So far, no one has taken a guess to who Paulo Tabernus really is. This is... disappointing. His true ID isn't going to be revealed yet, so people there is still time!**

* * *

I storm outside, tears stinging in my eyes. After I slam the door to the RV shut, I scream in frustration. Then I sit down in the pavement and start crying. I can see people in their cars staring at my temper tantrum, but I don't care. Their opinions don't matter. My friends opinions do. And after today, they'll never look at me the same. Skylar walks out of the trailer and sits down beside me.

"Are you okay?" I shake my head, knowing if I try to speak I'll start sobbing again.

"Do you want to talk about it?" I shake my head again.

"Luca feels really bad about what he did."

"He better." We sit in silence for a little while so I can pull myself together.

"You know, a lot of demigods dropped out of school." she says.

"How many dropped out of fifth grade?" Her eyes widen in shock.

"How is that even possible! I mean, aren't their laws against it or something."

"My mother claimed she homeschooled me. Of course, she was away at work most of the time, so she really didn't." More awkward silence.

"Why did you drop out?" I look at her, hesitant to say anything.

"It'll just stay between us." she assures me.

"Yea right." I snort.

"No, believe it or not I'm actually a pretty good secret keeper. Like, there's this one girl in my cabin, Rosie Moscowitz, and one time, she went on a date with Conner from your cabin, and she made up this whole story about her dog eating chocolate or something and going to the hospital to get out of the date, except that Conner wanted to talk to her family and know if the dog was okay later, so I had to pretend to be Rosie's stepmom, and..." She grins sheepishly. "Okay, so maybe I'm not so great of a secret keeper."

"It's okay. You guys already know, so what have I got to loose. And also, Rosie's not the first girl who's ditched Conner." I take a deep breath.

"So, when I was a little kid, I was what you would call a 'problem child'. I mean, I was already ADHD and what not, but it was amplified like, ten times because my dad was Hermes. You know how children of Aphrodite are naturally romantics, and children of Athena are naturally know-it-alls? Well, children of Hermes are naturally trouble makers. We've got like, this primal urge to be disrespectful and destructive, and when I was little, I couldn't control that urge. I would talk back to teachers, get into fights with the other kids, destroy public property, ditch school, that sort of thing. Finally, in fifth grade my mom couldn't take getting called by the principle everyday. She spent most of her time away at work, often for weeks at a time, and she was afraid that if she kept being unable to show up, Child Services would take me away. She just pulled me out of school, and started teaching whenever she could, which was never. The teachers sure didn't object. But everyone knew me in my neighborhood as that girl who was so wild she dropped out of elementary school. It was totally embarrassing. So when I found out I was a demigod and was taken to Camp Half-blood, I decided I wouldn't let anyone find out."

"But Luca did." I nod.

"It was during one of those camp-bonding exercises Chiron tried out, remember?" She laughs.

"How could I forget?"

"Anyway, he promised not to tell anyone and I like an idiot trusted him. Just like I trusted the guys on Ebay who told me this RV was new." I choke back another self pitying sob. She sighs.

"I don't think he meant to hurt you. He just got caught up in the argument. You know him. Normally he's harmless."

"Yea, it's like all his rage get used up on yelling and calling people morons."

"So, you'll forgive him?" I glare at her.

"Don't push your luck."

* * *

One very awkward hug later, I'm back in the drivers seat. Nobody has said anything for 10 miles. Skylar occasionally gives me a reassuring smile. Elliot and Angeline seem pretty disturbed over my meltdown. I can tell Angeline wants to bug me about it, but she doesn't Luca is sitting way in the back, his arms crossed. We've only made eye contact once, to glare at each other.

"So um, Emma... where, exactly, are we going?" Angeline asks tentatively.

"I'm spending the rest of our money on gas and then heading back to camp," I grumble. I'm sick of this Crapmobile, sick of running around exhausted looking for clues to some mythological treasure, and most of all, I'm sick of my friends. I just want to go home, take a shower, and angrily binge watch TV. I see a Shell station and pull in.

"Emma, are you sure you want to do this?" Angeline begins. "What about Emmalandia? What about the scientific discovery, what about the rest of us?"

"Don't care, don't care and I'm pretty sure you were against this all along Blondie."

"I was, at first, but it intrigued me, and besides, I'm a child of Athena. And children of Athena don't quit a project halfway through!"

"Well children of Hermes do. I wouldn't continue this stupid mission impossible if you put a gun against my head and ordered me to!"

I here the click of a safety behind me, and my heart sinks.

"That can be arranged."

* * *

 **Dun dun dunnn! My best cliffhanger yet! Remember, time is running out. Send in your Paulo ID guess and joke soon, because the clock is ticking**

 **Th-that's al folks!**

 **-Sage Nicholson**


	12. A plot! And only 12 chapters in!

**So, what's up? Apparently my pseudonym was overwhelming, and nobody even attempted to figure out my genius. Oh well. I've decided to post one of my favorite jokes in here anyway.**

 **A woman walks into a store and says, "Hello, I'd like a pound of broccoli please."**

 **The man at the register says, "I am so, so sorry ma'am. We just ran out of broccoli. Would you like a pound of spinach instead?"**

 **"Okay," she says. "I'd like a pound of broccoli."**

 **"Ma'am we don't have any more broccoli. Would you like a pound of asparagus?"**

 **"I want a pound of broccoli, please."**

 **"There's no more broccoli. Do you want a pound of string beans?"**

 **"Okay. I'll take a pound of broccoli."**

 **"Ma'am, can you spell dog, as in dogmatic?"**

 **"Sure. D-O-G dog."**

 **"Can you spell cat, as in catastrophic?"**

 **"Sure. C-A-T cat."**

 **"Can you spell frick, as in broccoli?"**

 **"There's no frick in broccoli!"**

 **"THAT'S WHAT I'VE BEEN TRYING TO TELL YOU!"**

 **Normally, I hate puns, but this one just appeals to me. Probably because the version I heard was rated T for language. And now, back to the story**

* * *

I hear the unmistakable click of a gun against my head. I turn around slowly to face it, as well as the two men who stood behind me.

The first one, the one holding the gun, looks a Viking who's been taking steroids. He's got long greasy blonde hair and an equally greasy beard, Celtic-looking tattoos everywhere and a face that's (let's face it) even a mother couldn't love. He's not wearing any amor, and I doubt he needs it. But it's the guy in the purple t-shirt behind him who catches my attention.

He's obviously this goon's leader, he doesn't have the muscle necessary to be one of them. Even so, he's tall. Really tall. And also really pale, so his skin clashes magnificently with the dark hair all over his arms. Other than that, he looks like an average 20-something year old, until I make the mistake of looking him in the eyes. His amber death stare is absolutely chilling, completely mad and remorseless. I shudder and break away from his glare.

He narrows his eyes. "So, you're the little hero who found my hints. Emma right? I'll be honest, when the goons described you I didn't think you'd be so... deceptively small."

I sputter with anger. "So, I guess you're Paulo Tabernus. Didn't think you'd be so deceptively ugly." He gives me that death glare again. I wince inwardly. That's probably not the best thing to say to the clearly sociopathic man whose henchmen is pointing a gun at you.

The door to our RV swings open, and Luca, Elliot and Skylar are marched out, also at gunpoint, by a man with reptilian eyes and lizard scales running up and down his head. The same one, I realize, we saw in Washington D.C. The two goons herd us into a group. Paulo gives us an evil smile, the kind cartoons villains practice in the mirror.

"Good, you're all here. Luca, put away that sword. Oh yes, I know that's not a glue stick. I know you used it during your battle against the camazotz. That's a good boy. Now then, calm down kids, I'm just here to discuss your progress." Skylar whimpers and clutches the person nearest to her, who happens to be Elliot. I'm sure if we weren't in mortal danger, he'd be thrilled right now.

"Gee," Luca says, "I'd believe you a little more if you didn't have two Beretta M9s pointed at us." Paulo grins.

"Excellent guess. No doubt you're a child of Mars. Go on, then Skidvin, Mark, put the weapons away. I'm sure you two can take them should they try something funny." They comply

"The Lizard's name is Mark?" I snicker.

"No, the Germani is Mark. The homo lacerta is Skidvin." The lizard hands the old necklace from Williamsburg to him. He swings it like a pendulum.

"Thank you for recovering this for me. It's value is priceless." I snort.

"It's a rusty piece of metal." He shakes his head.

"Absolutely not, Emma. This is the key to finding the lost treasure. My lost treasure." I feel my throat close up.

"Your treasure... you say that like you owned it. Like you were an ancient Roman or something."

"Not a Roman. The Roman. The emperor to be exact."

"I've never heard of a Roman emperor named Paulo."

"But I've heard of a Roman emperor nicknamed Paulo," Angeline butts in. "Paulo Tabernus is Latin for "little boot". You're Caligula!" I vaguely remember Caligula from a song I heard on Pinky and the Brain. Apparently he got "friendly" with a Thoroughbred. Lovely guy.

"But..." Angeline stammers. "You were stabbed in back almost 2,000 years ago! How did you manage to write to Benedict Arnold in the 1700s?"

"I didn't. Until I escaped through the doors of death, my dear friend Mark here was kind enough to allow my ghostly spirit possession of his body occasionally, in exchange for a little immortality. Of course, he lost his humanity as well as free will in the bet. Through him I led the Roman forces after those barbaric Greek thieves. I was just about to reach my goal through Arnold, when we were discovered. Both of us escaped, but the key to the treasure, this pendent, was taken, with a few letters we had failed to burn, for evidence. It took me a decade to regain a network of spies in the Templars, but by then, of course, Lincoln had been assassinated and they had broken up. I was lost. I couldn't figure out where to look next! And I certainly couldn't seek help from one of my henchmen. They're not hired for their brains. So I- discretely- began to spread the rumor of the Templars. Then I planted clues that were to be found by clever- or in your case, lucky- demigods, who would then find the key, and hopefully the treasure itself. My spy, Skidvin would keep me posted. Once the demigods were no longer needed, we could easily dispatch them."

"So why did you break into the RV?" Luca demands.

"And blow up the tunnels in Williamsburg?" I add.

"Well, to be fair, I did not mean to ransack your vehicle. Skidvin here just can't resist marshmallows. And I blew up the magazine because it quickly became obvious to me you weren't serious about this quest. You need more... initiative. The FBI was unable to find clear video footage of their two "terrorists" because I have it. And it would be a shame if they were to receive it, along with an anonymous tip of your names. And not just Emma and Elliot's names, because by providing their getaway vehicle, you were aiding criminals."

It takes a moment for the gravity of this situation to sink in, but when it does I want to hurl. If Paulo frames us for this crime, we can forget any chance of a normal life we have. We'll be fugitives for the rest of our lives, or live in exile at Camp Half-blood. We'll never be able to go home or see our families again. We'll probably die drunk in a South American bar, lamenting on our poor life choice of taking a vacation. Assuming Caligula doesn't get to us first.

"What do you want from us?"

"At the moment, nothing really. Go back to Camp, it will be useful to have inside sources there. Maybe figure out how to work this rusted thing in your spare time." He tosses "the key" back to me.

"And remember this conversation. Next time we meet up, I might not be so kind and forgiving."

Caligula and his men disappear into the shadows, leaving nothing behind to signal they were their but a bad vibe. We pile into the RV as I finish filling up the tank. I don't start driving but look at the faces of my friends. Scared, angry, but most of all determined. I can tell what their thinking, because I'm thinking it too.

This means war.

* * *

 **I really hope the third emperor in Rick Riordan's Triumvirate isn't Caligula. But just in case it is, remember: I wrote this first.**

 **Homo Lacertas** **aren't real mythological monsters. The name literally means Lizard-man. I just wanted to make up my own species.**

 **Camazotz** **are mythical Native American bat people. They also can appear as giant bats. They were said to carry off Arawack villagers in the night.**


	13. Thank you!

**That's right people, Book 1 is finished. Please, feel free to give me your suggestions for Book 2. And John Johnson, thank you for the critic. I've done my best to correct the errors in later chapters, please review again and tell me what you think.**

 **There are some people who I couldn't have written this book without:**

 **Thank you Rick Riordan, for creating a world where it is perfectly normal for five teenagers to live and drive around together without adult supervision, get attacked regularly by bad guys, and search for hidden treasure.**

 **Thank you Wikipedia, for helping me sound knowledgeable on obscure subjects like lock picking, which I don't have the foggiest clue about.**

 **Thanks to anyone who read, reviewed, followed or made this fan-fiction your favorite. You are the reason I didn't quit after the second chapter like I normally do.**

 **Thanks to my real life friends, who I shall call "Mary" and "Sue", and who inspired Angeline and Skylar. If you hate either of these characters for any reason guys, please note they are based off of you _very loosely_. Please don't end our friendship. **

**And above all, thanks to the passage of time, because it is now summer vacation, giving me lots of time to work on Book 2!**

 **Note: This book was entirely ad-libbed. When writing a new chapter I literally just stared at my computer and said "okay Sage, what plot twists do you want to give you helpless victims- I mean, characters- today?" When I started this I had no plot in mind. The only thing I had was the basic construct for my main character. I also published everything on the first draft. Please consider this before you review.**


End file.
